Harsh Realizations
by homicidalslayer
Summary: Dead Fic. Sorry people, but every time I try to work on this, I cringe.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The TV show "Dark Angel," its creators, parent companies and affiliates, do not in any way, shape, or form belong to me. The only thing that I claim is my work.**

**A/N: Okay, thing is, I'm just fishing for plots at this point. Seriously, "Harsh Truths" is a tough act to follow. That's why I'm making this a "M/L versus the world" fiction. Sorry.**

**Setting: Max & Original Cindy's Crib; 7:00 am**

"Ugh," Cindy moaned as she peeled her face off of her sheets. "Original Cindy is _hung over_." She stumbled out of her room and into the bathroom, where she proceeded to "purge" her system of the alcohol. Then she staggered, still groggy from her alcohol-induced slumber, down the hall towards the kitchen. She grabbed Max's door frame to steady herself, at which point she noticed her roommate's absence.

**_Huh,_** thought Original Cindy, **_Where's Max?_ _She can't already be at work. No one in their right mind _tries_ to be the first one to see Normal in the morning. She was here when I left, brooding over Rollerboy._ _Maybe she's over there. _**

Original Cindy made herself a cup of coffee and paged Max, hoping that there was nothing to worry about. Wondering what the problem between Logan and Max was this time. Wondered if it had been resolved. Wondered if the two had not only reconciled, but "made up." Wondered if she had to kill Logan for hurting her Boo. But mostly, she just wondered **_"Where in the hell is Max?"_**

**Cut to: **

**Fogle Towers 7:00 am**

Max let out a sleepy "mm" and snuggled in closer to Logan, who she was using as a pillow. Then her eyes blinked open and she looked up at his face to see him staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. She pulled herself up to straddle his stomach, leaning forward so that her face was directly above his, blocking his view of the ceiling, forcing him to break his trance. He started in surprise at seeing her face suddenly appear over him. Then he relaxed, a lazy smile creeping over his face as he drank in the sight of her; rumpled curls and sleepy eyes.

"Mm, Morning," he greeted her. He took in a deep breath and wrapped his arms around her. Leaning in, she placed a slow, chaste kiss on his lips in response. When she pulled back, there was a evil glint in her eyes. She hopped up off of him, taking the sheet with her. She kicked his wheelchair closer to the bed with one foot while fastening the bed sheet around herself.

"Feed me." She ordered in response to the confused expression on his face. He laughed, amused as she flounced out of the room, collecting the few articles of clothing that had managed to stay on long enough to make it to the bedroom the night before.

With a happy sigh, Logan dragged himself into his chair. He grabbed a pair of boxers and cotton tee and pulled them on before wheeling after her.

**A/N: See, told you I'd write it.**

**R & R, People!!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**A/N: ** To all of my reviewers, thanks. I have finals coming up soon, thus the update drought. In fact, If my head weren't overloading right now, I wouldn't even be on FFN at the moment.

To one particularly pissed off reviewer, who shall remain nameless,_**calm the hell down.**_ It's a 10,168 word story, with, I acknowledge, no particular plot, but it's not my fault if you haven't read Volumes I & II. Besides, I wrote that particular summary so that I wouldn't have to change it each time I added a new chapter.

**Setting: Logan's Apartment**

"Explain to me exactly why, after last night, I'm eating fruit for breakfast?" Max inquired peevishly as she watched Logan throw together many random chopped fruits, both fresh and canned, in a bowl.

"Because you'll be really late for work if you leave soon," Logan replied amusedly. "But you need to eat some sort of breakfast. And I'm adding sugar, so you should like it." Max looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Well, if you stop by on your lunch break," he offered slyly. "I'll have something decent ready for you." Max smiled at this, now seeing his motives: He wanted a reason to see her again that day.

**Awwww**.

_Ewwww._

"Well, yeah, you'd better." Logan's face lit up with amusement when she said this, loving her cocky attitude that was so like his own. Max wolfed down the fruit he had given her. Then, planting a sultry kiss on his lips, she left.

**CUT TO:**

**Setting: Jam Pony, Noon**

"Yo, Max," Sketchy's voice called out from the table where he, OC, and Herbal Thought were congregated, preparing to take their lunch break. "Why aren't you eating?"

Thinking quickly, Max replied "Sorry guys, somewhere I gotta be," and hurried off to get a Sector 9 package from Normal.

"What is up with _that_?" Sketchy asked, nodding after Max. Herbal shrugged.

Original Cindy narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at her friend's retreating form. Max had been acting strangely all daydodging questions about why she hadn't been at home that morning and anything having to do with Logan whatsoever.

"I don't know," Original Cindy said finally. "But Original Cindy intends to find out." Herbal and Sketchy exchanged worried glances: this couldn't possibly end well.

**CUT TO:**

**Setting: Fogle Towers; Noon**

Logan glanced at the clock in the corner of the computer screen.

_Max will be here soon. _He had thought that he had more time. On the one hand, he was anxious to see her again, having already missed her in the few hours in which they'd been apart, on the other, he really wanted to finish his work.

_Which do you want more?_

With a sigh, he saved his work and shut down his computer, locking away the files piled around his desk. He and Max hadn't been together for a full 24 hours yet, and already he was thinking about putting work before her. He was losing sight of what was important:

**He was with**_Max_.

This came before work. It had to, or he'd lose her, probably for good this time.

_It isn't everyday that a hot, young super soldier chooses to start a relationship with a paraplegic __journalist a decade older than her._ He reminded himself grimly as he rolled into the kitchen to start lunch. _You haven't had a real relationship since you started Eyes Only. You just need to get used to it again._

He hoped the little voice inside his head was right.

**R & R, people!!!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the TV show Dark Angel, its parent or affiliate companies.

**Setting:** Logan's Apartment

Max stealthily entered the apartment, her feet making no noise as she glided about from one room to the next. Upon entering the kitchen, she spotted her prey, his back to her. She crept quietly to him, and slid her arms down around his chest, dropping her head down to rest next to his. She enjoyed feeling him jump at her touch, surprised at her presence. Then her relaxed and twisted around to kiss her.

"Hi," he whispered after they broke apart. Max's eyes flashed mischievously, and she walked around front of him to settle in his lap, pulling him in for another kiss. After a few moments, Logan pulled back again.

"As much as I'd really, really," his eyes raked up and down her before continuing, "_really _love to continue this, lunch is going to burn and you don't have time to wait for a new one. So get up," he said, swatting lightly at her legs to emphasize the statement. Max pouted and, after a moment, relented, pulling herself reluctantly away from his body. She let out an exaggerated sigh as she straightened. Logan laughed and, for both good measure and to feed his own growing addiction to her, placed one final kiss on a spot of exposed skin between her pants and her top, near her hipbone.

Then he rolled over to the oven and opened it partially, checking its contents before shutting it off and removing the tray from within. On it sat a line of hard corn shells.

"Tacos?" Max inquired with a smile. "You're just getting less and less exotic these days, aren't you?" Logan laughed.

"I thought that it would be a shame to waste the taco sauce that I picked up a while ago at the market," he said. She continued to stare at him until he caved. "That, and I needed something that could be prepared in half an hour after I lost track of time. I didn't get much rest last night, remember?" Max laughed at his sheepish admission.

"So you are really _only_ human," she teased. Logan grinned.

"Try not to hold it against me; us mere mortals are sensitive about that."

"I'll do my best," Max promised. "Need any help in here?"

"Nah," Logan declined. "Take those bowls of toppings on the counter and go relax in the living room. I'll see you in a few."

Cocking her head curiously, Max did as she was asked, placing the four indicated bowls on the coffee table before settling on the sofa, kicking off her shoes and stretching her achy muscles. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and waited for Logan. Soon enough he rolled in with a platter of shells and a bowl of seasoned meat.

"Don't tell me you're falling asleep on me, Mighty One," he teased at seeing her ultra relaxed state. Max's eyes snapped open and she scooted over to make room for him next to her.

"Well, if you recall, I didn't get much rest last night either," she replied coyly as he slid in next to her. Logan smirked and placed a short, hungry kiss on her lips. Then he handed her a taco shell.

Max laughed a little in surprise, but began assembling her taco. Logan did the same. Arms soon became entangled as the two reached for different items. At some point, Max dropped taco sauce on Logan's wrist. She licked it off.

Not much eating actually occurred after that.

**Cut To:**

**Crash, 8:00 PM**

Max and Original Cindy stood at the foosball table, pitcher of beer nearby, engaged in a particularly competitive match. Original Cindy found that Max was easier to talk to when she was distracted by something else. And she wanted answers.

"So, Max," Original Cindy inquired casually, "What was up with lunch today, were you kicking it with your hotboy?"

"Maybe."

"So how is he these days?" Original Cindy studied Max's face intently as she awaited her reply.

"He's great." Max's voice was nonchalant, but a tiny secretive and, dare we say it, _girly_ smile flashed across her face as she forced herself to concentrate on the little men on the table.

"Huh," Original Cindy voiced thoughtfully. Max stopped turning knobs to look up at her friend.

"What's it to you, anyway?" Max demanded. Original Cindy squared off with Max's glare.

"It's just that, a couple days ago, Original Cindy was under the distinct impression that everything _wasn't _'Great.' As I recall, things were pretty far from it." Original Cindy's tone was level, but there was a glint of challenge in her eyes.

"We've reconciled." Max deadpanned, her eyes confirming that she and Logan had slept together and daring Original Cindy to say something about it.

Nearby, Sketchy turned away from another uninterested hottie to see his two friends locked in silent, unyielding standoff over the foosball table. Not moving his gaze, he reached out to tap Herbal's shoulder. He directed his friend's attention to their two friend's. Herbal sighed and stood.

"Jah help us. Come, let us put a stop to this madness before them kill one another."

"Aw, but I've always wanted to see a chick fight." Sketchy whined as he stood.

"Maybe so my friend," Herbal nodded. "But I and I would bet that the two of them would take de entire bar down with dem. And then where would we go to get our drink on?"

Fearing for the sake of his precious alcohol, Sketchy rushed ahead to intercede, leaving Herbal laughing behind him. That boy was just too easy.

**A/N: Can Sketchy and Herbal save Max and OC's friendship? Would Original Cindy actually survive a physical altercation with Max? **

**Tune in next time to find out on "Harsh Realizations."**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Dark Angel, its creators, characters, and parent companies do not belong to me and are property of 20th Century Fox and whatever Monstrosity owns them. The only thing to which I lay claim is my own personal work, the "Harsh" Trilogy, so don't even think about turning it into a trash publication, vultures! I can do that all by myself.**

**

* * *

**

**Setting: Crash. Where we left off. Look it up for yourself.**

"Hey, party people," Sketchy greeted with fake cheerfulness. In reality, he was terrified of the thought of being caught in the crossfire of a Max/Original Cindy battle. In all honesty, he wasn't sure who he was more afraid of.

"'Sup Sketch," Max replied, not actually breaking eye contact with Original Cindy. Original Cindy nodded in Sketchy's general direction, also not moving her gaze.

"Herbal." Max greeted the Rastafarian as she sensed him approaching from her left. **"Sensed" here meaning "was nearly overcome by the intense fumes of Marijuana."**

"What's the good word, My Brother?" Original Cindy asked, finally pulling her gaze from Max's icy stare to greet her friend.

_Oh, so now she thinks that she can ignore me? _Max thought angrily. _Who the hell does she think she is?_

"We was just wondering," Herbal said, "Whether or not you ladies were going to join us for a round. Now that you are obviously done with the game." He nodded towards the foosball table, which had been inactive for some time now.

"I'm in," Original Cindy replied. "Although I'm sure Max has other places she'd rather be." She turned back to a now seething Max who met her pointed gaze head on.

"As a matter of fact," Max practically spat at Original Cindy, "I do." She stepped off, snatching her jacket up angrily from where she'd dropped it on the floor next to the table. She stormed out into the night. Herbal Thought and Sketchy both turned to give OC disapproving stares.

"What?" Original Cindy asked innocently.

* * *

**Cut to: Streets of Seattle, 10 minutes later**

_What the hell is the matter with Original Cindy?_Max thought as she zoomed throught the streets on her ninja. _First she's practically pimping me out to Logan, always telling me that he and I should "totally get busy," and now she disapproves?_

_ Did I miss something?_

_ What gives her the right to act like that? Oh, wait, she doesn't have the right. Hell, she doesn't even have the privelage._

_ So why's she acting like that?_

* * *

_ Huh,_ Max thought as she pulled into Fogle Towers._ I didn't mean to come here. _

_ Am I wrong for coming here? _She wondered as she swung off of her bike.

_ Does it make me seem too needy to visit him three times a day? _She thought in the elevator as she watched the lighted floors change. _Will I seem clingy. I'm going to seem clingy, aren't I? _

_ I should probably go, _she determined as she stepped into his apartment. _Whoops, too late._

* * *

Logan looked up from the file he was reading in surprise as he heard Max enter the kitchen. He was sitting on a stool at the counter, mug of coffee in hand, reading over a police report of suspected embezzelments from charity funds dedicated to providing learning opportunities for gifted children. Or, rather, attempting to read it. His mind kept wandering back to a certain chimera.

The one that was now in his apartment, with _that_ expression on her face. The expression that said that she was doing everything in her power not to have an expression. Which usually meant that she was upset. Which, of course, meant that _he _had to make sure that she didn't know that he knew that she was upset, or she'd become even _more_ upset over her weakness.

Gee, their lives were complicated. Especially since all of the realizations and recaps listed above occurred in a matter of milliseconds.

"Hey," he greeted her brightly. "I thought you said that you were going to Crash tonight. What happened?" Max said nothing, she simply walked over to him.

"I missed you," she sighed, sliding her arms around his neck. She stretched up and kissed him. He tasted like coffee. But in a nice way.

"No complaints here," he laughed after she pulled back. But his gaze, while affectionate, did not match his tone. It was concerned as he took in the full sight of her.

"What?" She asked after a moment.

"Nothing," he said with a sad smile. "You just seem... tired. And I don't just mean from lack of sleep." Unable to think of a convincing lie, Max simply sighed and nuzzled her face into his shoulder, peppering little kisses on his neck before she closed her eyes and soaked in the comort his embrace offered.

Logan waited all of ten minutes, just holding her in one arm and drinking his coffee, until it was obvious that she had no intention of moving without provocation. He set his mug down and gently squeezed Max's torso a few times to get her attention. She straightened to face him and opened her eyes, blinking lazily a few times. She stared at him blankly.

"Can't have you falling asleep standing up," he told her quietly. "At least, not when you're leaning against me for support." He glanced down and Max picked up his meaning: She couldn't rest her weight against him when he was sitting on the backless stool. They'd keel over.

Nodding once to show her understanding, Max took a few steps back, allowing Logan to transfer into his wheelchair. She brushed his hand with her fingertips, indicating that he should follow her, and walked to his bedroom. She kicked off her shoes while Logan settled himself under the covers. Then she crawled in to rest her head on his chest, his fingers stroking her hair soothingly.

They lay like that in silence for an immeasurable amount of time. Logan worrying about her strange, vulnerable behavior, and Max trying to lay her worries to rest for a while in the safe-haven Logan provided.

It didn't work.

After about an hour, Logan felt warm prickles of wetness touch settle on his chest, just over his heart. Max was crying, he realized.

"Max," he whispered. She looked up at him, her dark, angelic eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Max shook her head. "Tommorow. I promise. But for now, can we just..."

"Yeah," he replied to the unfinished request. "Tomorrow." She lay her head back down on his chest, and he moved his gaze up to the ceiling, silently lamenting his angel's pain.

**TBC...****

* * *

A/N: I'm really returning to angst now. No, no, seriously, I mean it. "Fluffy" just isn't my thing. That's why this has been taking so long. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Yeah, like I could really turn a profit off of this crap. As if! James Cameron, D.A. is all yours.**

**A/N: Okay, people, if you don't like the story, could you at least have the decency to tell me so that I can scrap it and not waste my life trying to come up with new ideas for it? Huh???**

**Setting: Crash. Just after Max left.**

Herbal, Sketchy and Original Cindy stood watching Max's departing form for a moment before both men rounded on Original Cindy.

"So what was _that_ all about?" Sketchy asked, crossing his arms and doing his best to look upon her disapprovingly; all the while imagining in his head what it would've looked like had the situation resulted in a cat fight.

"Look, y'all know that Original Cindy has been pushing this whole Max/Logan thing since, like, the beginning." Original Cindy said. Sketchy and Herbal nodded, indicating that she should continue. "But lately I've been rethinking it. I mean, Max's happiness as of late seems to be dependent on Hot Boy's mood swings, and Original Cindy just ain't down with seeing her boo mopin' just because Logan feeling sorry for himself. And what the hell is up with him blowing up her pager one minute and screening her calls the next. That ain't right." She bit the last part off with an extra bit of attitude. Sketchy nodded thoughtfully, while Herbal interceded.

"Maybe so," Herbal replied. "But I and I believe that is not _our_ right to judge this man, for we know him not. Nor is it our place to interfere with matters of Max's heart."

"Thus proving its existence," Sketchy added. Original Cindy smacked him on the arm.

"We must not look down upon him now," Herbal continued. "When he is in the middle deepening his and Max's relationship, which is, considering the female, a strange and perplexing time, without also taking into account his past deeds." Original Cindy nodded and sighed.

"I guess you're right," Original Cindy capitulated. "But we keeping an eye on them just in case, right?"

"One eye?" Sketch answered. "Try six." The three nodded, an agreement finally being reached.

"Now," Herbal said. "Who's up for some pool?"

**Cut To:**

**Fogle Towers. Logan's Bedroom. Approximately 10:00 pm**

Max pressed herself in closer to Logan for what felt like the thousandth time. Her sobs had long since subsided, but she felt all puffy, and if she didn't clean herself up soon, she'd get snot all over Logan's front. He wouldn't mind, he was that sweet, but she'd never get over the embarrassment. She pulled away slowly, stumbling to her feet and padding into the bathroom, pointing her index finger up to silence Logan's protests. _One minute._ She shut the door behind her.

Logan sat back against the pillows. He was no longer worried about Max.

He was _far_ past "worried." Worried was about 59 sobs ago. (He'd kept count. There wasn't much else he could do.)

He was more around "stir-crazy-desperate" a side of paranoia. What had happened between their passion-frenzied lunch date and... _this?_ This was just... so wrong. Their lives had _finally_ been falling into place, and now some one or something had come along and jeopardized it all.

No, he decided, he wouldn't lose Max. Wouldn't lose this peace that they'd finally found. Not for the world.

But first he had to get Max to talk to him.

**Cut to:**

**Fogle Towers. Logan's bathroom.**

Max closed the bathroom door softly behind her. She immediately pulled some bath tissue off of the roll and set about drying her eyes and clearing her nasal passages, intentionally avoiding her reflection in the mirror. She noticed black smears on the tissue. Her mascara. She'd forgotten that she'd been wearing any at Crash. And now it was probably spread across the upper half of her face.

_And Logan's shirt is probably ruined, _she thought dismally as she threw the paper in to the small metal trashcan in the corner. She turned now to the mirror to survey the damage.

It wasn't encouraging. Grey ripples formed two layers on her cheeks around her eyes, making her truly redefine the term "raccoon eyes." Her eyes themselves were red rimmed and swollen, as was her nose. She sighed.

That was when Logan knocked softly on the door.

"Max," His gentle tone floated to her, muffled by the door. "You okay in there."

"Yeah," she replied shortly, her tone mercifully light. "Just trying to get some of this mascara off of my face. I can't imagine what your shirt must look like from where I blubbered all over you."

"It's not that bad," he reassured her after a short pause. Max smiled at her ghoulish reflection in the mirror; he was such a bad liar.

"Look, I'll be in the kitchen, making tea. I have some sweats laid out on the bed if you want to change out of your club clothes."

"That'd be great, thanks." She turned on the cold water, wetting and lathering her hands. Then, bending over into the sink basin, she washed her face: Scrub, splash, scrub, splash, splash splash splash. She pulled back, face and hair dripping, after she felt the swelling in her eyes go down, soothed by the icy water.

Grabbing a towel, she rubbed the water away vigorously away. When she lowered the towel, she saw that her hair was now a wet, disorderly mess of curls. She considered fixing it, but decided against it, knowing that Logan would find it endearing. Tossing the towel into the hamper, she exited the bathroom, and changed into the sweats. Then she walked to the kitchen, ready to face the music.

Logan's back was to her when she joined him in the kitchen. He was browsing his vast assortment of teabags, kettle on the stove nearby. She crept up behind him, unnoticed, and placed her hand on his shoulder. He started ever so slightly before twisting to glance up at her.

"Hey," he greeted. "Do you think you could help me find the chamomile teabags? I have _no_ idea how Bling stocks things in here." She smiled and, standing on tiptoes in order to reach over him, plucked the box in question almost immediately from the back of the cabinet. She presented it to him, grinning slightly.

"Huh," he said quizzically as he took the box from her, staring at it. "I wonder why I didn't notice that before." She ruffled her finger through his hair, and he pulled her hand down to kiss her finger tips. Slowly, Max leaned down so that her face was even with his. She pulled her hands from his mouth and placed them on either side of his face, drawing him in for a slow kiss.

They broke apart when the kettle let out a cheery screech from its perch on the stove. Logan wheeled back to the kettle and returned to the business of making tea. Max stood in place, trying to interpret the expression on Logan's face.

It wasn't until they were both settled in on the sofa with their cups of tea that Logan spoke again.

"So are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to guess?" The tense note in his voice told Max that avoiding the issue completely was the wrong choice at this particular juncture. So she tried for a semi-avoidance.

"Had a fight with Original Cindy," she told him with a shrug. Logan's eyebrows shot up.

"Seems like 'fight' is putting it lightly." Max turned her eyes away from his searching gaze.

"Max," his voice held a note of warning as he took her chin gently in his hands and turned her face towards him. "Talk to me. What did you two fight about?"

Max dropped her gaze from his once again, and he recoiled, taking up his mug once again.

"You," she whispered softly, eyes brimming once again. Logan froze, mug poised at his lips. "We fought about you. Or us. Or, whatever. I guess, what with everything that's been going on with us in the past month or so, one second we're fighting, the next we're closer than ever, then we're fighting again; well, she doesn't think that this is a good idea." He set the steaming mug of tea down carefully.

"Anyway, it's none of her business what you and I do," Max continued. Logan turned to her, taking her hands in his.

"Max, she's your friend, she's worried about you. Her opinion counts." Max looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow. "Hey, I said that her opinion counts, I didn't say that she gets a vote." Max laughed, and Logan yanked her in close for a sweet kiss.

"Feel better?" Logan asked once they'd come up for air. Max smiled at him.

"A little," she admitted. "I'm not feeling all that _forgiving_, but maybe a bit more willing to negotiate."

"There's a good girl," Logan said mockingly, and covered her mouth with his before she had time to punch him.

**TBC...**

**Sneak peek for Next Chapter:**

**Original Cindy:** So we're agreed, then?

**Sketchy:** Yep. From now on, we take turns tailing Max.


End file.
